What They Really Write In Those Books
by Alexandromeda Cullen II
Summary: My first fanfic yay! Basically, a plot-free BxL drabblet consisting of them using their commonplace books as diaries, both thinking their love for the other is unrequited. Includes poetry you have been warned, sappiness levels get pretty high! R&R plz!


_**A/N: Well, here goes my first attempt at a fanfic. It's probably horrible, and for that I'm really sorry, but I just had to get it out somehow. Review if you want (It'll make me really happy :) ). Thanks for reading! **_

_**What They Really Write in those Books**_

_A oneshot BxL fluff fic with no plot_

_By Alex Cullen II_

LPOV

She was so beautiful. Why couldn't she notice it for once? With all of the men in VFD after her, surely she had noticed something, but if she did, she gave no sign of it. Of course, that was just her nature, tempting and yet always unreachable. Sometimes I saw her bent over her lavender commonplace book, determinedly scribbling something indistinguishable. Whenever someone came by, she would bend over it, letting her heavy chocolate hair obscure the writing. I once asked her what she was doing, and got a simple and rather unhelpful 'writing' for my efforts. Obviously, it was private. Deciding to live and let live, I never asked again. Instead, I began this journal of poems. Since commonplace books are one of the most vital and confidential of VFD supplies, it seemed the perfect place for such a confidence. And so I begin, with a simple few couplets composed last night while waiting for dinner to heat.

Beautiful without trying, poised and graceful,

Exquisite and caring, the girl that lights my life.

A real fighter for truth in obscurity,

The one that keeps us strong in the darkness of sorrow.

Ripple in still water, she makes the sun shine,

In her wake, she leaves a feeling of love.

Clear, insightful, brilliant without being superior,

Even when no hope is left, she knows what to do.

BPOV

Why does the sun shine? Because he just walked by, of course. I'm not an idiot. I don't know why, but I feel more...attracted...by him than any of the others. They try, bless their hearts, but they just can't see that I'm not interested, and I just don't have the heart to tell them no. Anyway, on to the poems. I came up with another set of couplets today. Yes, it's sweet, but I don't know if this level of distraction is good. Maybe I can mention that there's someone, and ask him discreetly what to do. Yes, that's what I'll do as soon as I can get him alone. In the meantime:

Listens, cares, a true friend,

Even something more, I really don't know.

Mysterious, but aren't we all.

Obliging, courteous; why can't I speak my mind?

Nothing in the way, but I can't say a thing,

Yet I know there's something there.

I know, it's awful. I could do so much better if my mind wasn't clouded with thoughts of him. If I talk to him, there's only two possibilities. Either he kindly tells me that he doesn't reciprocate the feeling, but it's really sweet and he appreciates it. I'm not sure I can deal with rejection. Knowing that any one of us could die any day, that I've come to peace with, but knowing that he only views me as a friend would just wreck me. I don't know how I got this way, and it scares me. The only other possibility is that he feels for me too. That would be the most wonderful thing to happen to a VFD member in years. As such, it's so unlikely that it hurts. Oh, for a normal life where we could just talk over a snack...last night, Tuesday, we went out for root beer floats, and his eyes kept flickering, from over my shoulder, to his float, to me.

LPOV

She's really skittish today, as if something's bothering her. I wish I could help smooth the creases from her lovely face, erase the worry, whatever causes it. Maybe I'll ask if I can help later.

Today's poem is just a short one, it hasn't been a great day for writing.

She looks like the sunshine on a cloudy day,

That one ray that peeks through the dismal sky.

It keeps you alive in times of trouble and sadness,

That's what she does.

A caring touch, a mother, sister, friend,

Comfort anywhere, anytime.

Whenever you need her, she's there,

Giving love, tender help, anything.

When you're down, she makes you happy;

When you feel like nothing helps, she does.

If you want to leave and never come back,

The sight of her stops you at the door.

BecausE everyone hAs Troubles, I suggest Comfort from hEr.

BEautiful AcTress whistles mozaRt's fourteenth lIke a CantarE

BPOV

Ok, I have to skip right to the poems. I found a great new style today, fortunately. Other than that, there's no chance of getting something intelligible out of me now, I'm afraid.

LikE one froM a wONderful daYdream

SileNt whIspers, Conversations in a looK, passEd quieTly

Loving glancEs, Moments speNt dYing of happiness. SuddeN Intuition priCKles whEn he's in sighT

No more for now. I'm sorry, but there's something going on and I can't tell what. He's been shooting glances my way when he thinks I don't see. Oh, I hope he doesn't read this...

Ok. Just so I feel better...

L,

If you are reading this, I've let you read it. Therefore, I must have determined that either you reciprocate my feelings, or I don't care if you do or not, in which case it doesn't matter. I can't put anything definitive in writing, however much I want to. But I think I love you.

B.

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A/N So how did you like it? Review, something. No flames, please, constructive criticism is fine but it's useless to tell me that you think it sucked. At least tell me what to change.

Oh and if enough ppl tell me to continue, I will. I actually have a story built up around this, so I could post it if you want (or even if you don't, I might just because...)

Well that's all. Peace,

Alex


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